The Remnants of a Forgotten Age
by The Supreme Failure
Summary: The cycle seemed as though it would never end for The Chosen Undead. It had taken everything from him, but nothing lasts forever. The cycle eventually is unable to continue and the undead finds himself in the far future where he is a remnant of a forgotten age.
1. Chapter 1

Yet again he walked down the ashen stairwell leading to Gwyn, Lord Of Cinder. By now he, The Chosen Undead, had done this countless times. He had become trapped in a cycle of unending death and rebirth, and it had taken everything from him. No matter what he did the final result was always the same, and that was waking up in the Undead Asylum.

Yet again he was at the fog wall that should have marked the end of his journey, but instead marked the beginning. Yet again he was to fight Gwyn and choose either to link the fire or leave it to fade. Only for all that had conspired to play out again. For this was his fate.

A familiar fwoosh was heard as he walked through the fog wall and was greeted to a familiar sight. Gwyn, Lord of Cinder standing in front of what looked to be a normal bonfire. He knew that it was much more than just a bonfire however, after all he had been burnt alive by it before.

Gwyn leapt toward the undead preparing for a overhead strike. His blade was met with air however as he felt a Soul Spear pierce his gut. He was barely fazed by it however as he followed it up with a quick slash at the undead who skillfully dodged it. The undead rolled backwards before tossing a Great Chaos Fireball at Gwyn with his main hand. Gwyn was staggered by its might and the undead took advantage of his weakness by casting Crystal Soul Spear.

Gwyn groaned in pain before charging the undead and Gwyn thrusted his sword at him. He easily sidestepped it, right into a kick.

The undead was sent flipping backwards barely landing on his feet in a crouched position. As he was getting back up he narrowly dodged a grab from Gwyn. He decided to switch his pyromancy flame for The Holy Greatsword Of Artorias sheathed on his back. He did this just in time to block a slash from Gwyn. Their blades met for a moment before the undead rolled backwards. Gwyn charged him again after grabbing his sword in both hands.

The undead narrowly sidestepped Gwyn's sword as he slammed into the ground and ash shot up. Gwyn pulled his sword back before Sweeping it in a horizontal arc. He easily ducked under it before slashing the Lord Of Cinder's shin. Gwyn then slammed the sword down but the undead easily sidestepped the attack. He cast a Soul Spear at Gwyn's knee causing the lord to fall to one knee.

He rolled over to Gwyn and cast Dark Bead before stabbing his sword square in his chest. The undead forced Gwyn down on the ground before removing his sword and then slamming it down atop Gwyn who groaned in pain. Gwyn kicked the undead in the knee before standing back up. His kick knocked the undead over and Gwyn slammed his sword on him.

A mighty clang was heard as the sword slammed into the undead's chestplate, once belonging to Artorias The Abysswalker.

"Argh..." The undead let out a yelp of pain before quickly standing up and barely dodging a four hit combo from Gwyn.

Gwyn charged forward before attempting to impale the undead who ducked under it. Yet again he slashed Gwyn's shin before rolling backwards. Gwyn rushed him before swinging his sword with all the power he could muster. The undead rolled under the attack to his right before sipping his estus. The flask's healing power rejuvenated him, as he felt all the pain go away.

The undead decided to switch up his style rolling backwards twice from Gwyn as he did his kick. He cast Homing Crystal Soulmass before hanging Logan's catalyst on his belt. Gwyn leapt at him attempting to smash the undead but his sword met ash. The undead had rolled under Gwyn and cast power within. He suddenly felt a great surge power deep within himself, but he also could feel his life slowly ebbing away.

This time he rushed Gwyn with his sword in both hands .He spun before reaching Gwyn and his sword embedded itself in the lord's side as Homing Crystal Soulmass slammed into him. Both attacks together staggered the lord and the undead took full advantage of this. He slashed at Gwyn a total of four times before he recovered.

But even after such a thrashing Gwyn was still standing, if not a bit worse for wear. Gwyn grabbed the undead by the neck and raised him up. A fireball began forming in his hand scorching the undead's elite knight helmet and long coat.

BOOM

An explosion sounded as the undead was sent flying away and slammed into a pillar. Gwyn rushed him again but ran straight into a Crystal Soul Spear. The undead slowly rose back up before shooting a Soul Spear at Gwyn. Gwyn shrugged off the Soul Spear before charging the undead again, but this time slower. The undead two handed his sword. Gwyn slashed at the undead who sidestepped the attack before gashing Gwyn's chest. He groaned in pain before attempting to grab the undead, but instead felt a cold blade slice into his elbow.

The once mighty lord was in desperate need of a hand figuratively and literally. He then felt a Crystal Soul Spear shoot through his left knee as he was forced onto his other. Finally he felt a sword pierce his skull and he let out one last mighty roar before disappearing into ash.

The undead hefted his sword into its sheath on his back and looked out to the bonfire in the center of the room. The exit to the room was behind the bonfire and while linking the flame was more painful it was quicker than 'becoming' the dark lord. He jogged over to the bonfire before reaching his hand out to it. flame covered his hand, then his entire body. But, he didn't die or get roasted to ash. The flame covered him and the kiln, but no enormous fireball formed. Granted it was still a lot of fire.

To say the undead was stunned would have been a massive understatement, but no other words could truly describe how he felt at that exact moment. Granted this was still excruciatingly painful, he was on fire after all. His thoughts became an incoherent mess either from the pain, confusion, or both no one really knows. He could feel himself growing weak however and he found his vision fading to black.

'I should have just gone with dark lord...'

 _ **Welcome to the first chapter of Remnants of a forgotten age's rewrite. I wasn't happy with how the story was going as I had written myself in a hole where no matter what I did it would have ended up fairly generic and uninteresting. Im much happier with this chapter and I have this fairly planned out. Hurrah, I'm being slightly less stupid now! From now on I'll be shooting for 2000 words a chapter. Thanks for reading the story I hope you enjoyed i**_ t.

 _ **I feel like it might also be worth mentioning that the Chosen Undead has been choosing the "dark lord" ending for the most part on the last few cycles.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Souls_

He was awoke to that single word repeating itself. He tried to think, but found his thoughts were sluggish and slow. Where wa-

 _Souls_

Who was he? He.. The Chosen Undead of course. Conquer of the gods and slayer of demons.

 _Souls_

A burning emptiness was deep in his chest, and it ate away at him. He needed souls, and the hunger was maddening. His thoughts were sluggish, and nearly nonexistent. By some miracle however he remembered his two spare souls. The souls had belonged to Manus and Gwyn, and net a fair amount of souls. They would last him say, two ish months.

Two pops were heard through darkness before suddenly the area was lit in a sphere of light. Within it was the Chosen Undead wearing the elite knight helmet, Artorias' s chestplate (minus the cape), the bottomless box attached to a belt, Havel's gauntlets, and Havel's leggings. In his hands were the True Greatsword of Artorias and Logan's catalyst. Strapped to his back was the Grass Crest Shield, and worn on his fingers was the Ring of Favor and Protection and Havel's Ring. His soul count was far lower than he'd have liked, but at least he could think coherently. He wasn't quite at full thought capacity however, and that may take a little bit of waiting. At least he could always gather some more souls. That was a easy job he thought, but unknown to him it would be far easier said than done.

Sadly the long coat he wore over his armor had long ago rotted away, and that was a sore loss for him. He had stuffed his coat's pockets with things ranging from daggers, moss, firebombs, keys, his talisman, resins, and even most of his divine blessings. While he had backup equipment in the box for all of those the divine blessings were irreplaceable. Losing those were a sore loss, but at least he had two more in the bottomless box. Luckily he had the good sense to attach his Estus Flask to his belt. It was even still mostly full.

He shook his head as he was off track now. He needed a way out of the kiln. He surveyed his surroundings and found that the kiln was pitch black. His thoughts were slowly returning to normal after consuming the souls and it finally dawned on. He wasn't in the asylum. The cycle was over.

"HA HA HA!" Mad laughter sounded.

"I DID IT! HAHAHA I SURVIVED~" He practically sung aloud.

"HAHah..a."

Reality was quick to dawn on him. He was low on souls, stuck in the kiln (he doubted the toothy serpents would help him get out), everything in his coat was gone, the flame seemed dead so no warping, and he didn't even know if humanity was still existent.

Silence once again took the kiln as the undead walked to where he figured the entrance was. He was covered in ash and the metal of his armor was rusted. After reaching the entrance he continued on, and his journey through the kiln was met with no resistance or anything. No messages no summons no invasions, just ash and darkness.

Eventually he was at the end of the kiln where ash would give way to the stairwell leading to Firelink Altar. There were no Black Knight ghosts this time just white and a shut door where the altar was be behind. Unfortunately for the undead it was shut, and there no way of getting through. Granted he was still going to try and get through.

THUD

THUD

THUD

His fists didn't dent the doors.

THUD

THUD

THUD

Neither did his sword...

What was a undead to do when trapped behind a door? Pull random shit out of the bottomless box of course! Eventually after longer than he'd like to admit of throwing random things at the unmoving door he pulled a homeward bone out by chance. He shrugged before crushing it, he was going to try everything to get out. A circular pattern of runes surrounded him as a swirl of white appeared above him. Moments later and he was gone.

* * *

As his vision slowly returned he found himself on a cliff behind a flameless bonfire. There was greenery everywhere trees, vegetation, and grasses. In front of him was much the same with the cliff leading up to a dead end. While to his left was even more forest. Surrounding the area was another forest with the occasional massive pile of debris that were once mighty walls. This was the remnants of Firelink Shrine .

It seemed as though he was alone, which was good. He needed to do some thinking.

'Where am I to go?' Was his biggest thought. No one was here, the aqueducts to the burg was gone, hell almost everything was gone. Firelink was in the side of a huge cliff so that gave him a complete dead end. That left down as his only option.

He only had two ideas after all this thought and they were; scale the cliff or mine his way through the cliff. While he'd normally have probably gone with the mining, he also normally had enough souls to go decades without gathering more. Now however time was of the essence, and he needed to gather more souls quickly. That left one option and he knew it wasn't going to go well...

He walked over to the graveyard, or the grassy area it once occupied. The graves were long gone by now. Eventually he found where the ground went down and led to the catacombs. He looked straight down and there was a massive forest going farther than the eye could see. Except for the pit that was Blighttown. To him it seemed of. Instead of the dull green it once was it was now jet black. Unyielding darkness. It was also covered by what looked to have been a wall, except for a crack in the side. That crack was large enough for a few Gaping Dragons to crawl out however. Memories of the enormous monster surfaced in his head. Being devoured was easily his least favorite way to go. The creative's acid would burn through his armor... He shook his head his thoughts coming back when he heard a low growl coming from the Catacombs.

His head shot towards the sound and his eyes were met with red. He didn't ask questions and shot a Soulspear into the dark where it hit his target. The eyes suddenly dropped down and stayed there. He raised his catalyst and he cast Cast Light. He slowly took a few steps in before suddenly stopping. More red dots appeared twenty in all, around twelve feet away.

Seconds later they all charged forward, and what did our hero do? Run away. To elaborate he ran towards Firelink. As he was running there however he began casting White Dragon Breath. Exactly where Firelink ends and the Graveyard begins he did a complete 180. The White Dragon Breath crystals shot up from the ground, impaling five of the beasts. That left, five more. He casually sidestepped one swinging its arm at him, and he followed it by slamming his sword on top of the monster. It was crushed both from his strength, and the swords weight. He then swung the sword randomly to the right. There was no finesse in the swing, as it was raw strength. One unfortunate beast was caught mid swing at the undead. His ribcage was torn off, and he was left practically in two. It was dead in seconds. The last three rushed from the front, left, and right. He waited until they were a few seconds from reaching him, and rolled back. As he did this he started casting Crystal Soulspear. They curved steeply towards him, but the one originally to his right was impaled by the spear. The last two reached him before he could cast another spell, and both landed solid hits. They both were in front of him, and he impaled one of them. His sword sunk through its chest as it let out one final growl. The last one went for his throat, but he'd expected this. He sidestepped it and stabbed its chest. It died mere moments later. He waited a while for the souls, but they never came.

'What's wrong?' Was his only thought. What were these things, and how could they not have souls? It seemed impossible, silly even, but here it was. A enemy that had no soul, but that left countless questions. Could the beasts be like golems, but even they held souls. Even the skeletons held souls. When he found humanity he'd have many questions... Assuming he didn't have to take their souls of course. ' 'I suppose I could ask about the beasts then kill 'em, win win for me I guess.' He racked his brain about their description and remembered they were black, had white masks with red highlights, and looked vaguely wolf like.

He went back to where he had been before their ambush. Now he only had one question. How to you climb down a cliff?

It took many days, a few Rings of Sacrifices, and many skirmishes but eventually he did it. He climbed down that mountain. He had come to the conclusion that the bird monsters were the worst. The things could shoot their own feathers, and those things hurt. A lot. At least he was down now though, but now he had to be even more careful not to die. Four days had passed and that was four days without gaining souls. He checked the bird monsters, who looks suspiciously similar in color scheme as the wolves, for souls, but he never sensed anything.

Why bother? Why bother when he has no way to gain the souls he needed. But why not continue? Might as well take out some these fiends before hollowing, eh? He continued on chuckling to himself through the forest. All the while battling through scores of the monsters. Constantly he was thrown into the fray of battle through the hoards of the monsters. In the end he was always the only one left standing. It was mainly wolf's he fought though, and they were easy at best.

He walked and walked through the forest that never seemed to end. Always looking over his shoulder, and flashes of Darkroot Garden with its invaders constantly in his head. Then he heard it. A hiss. He rolled behind a tree narrowly dodging a huge snake. As the serpent shot forth he felt something slam into his back. He felt his chestplate collapse from force, as he saw another snake head having grabbed him. He sliced its eye, but that didn't make it let go. The exact opposite actually. Its teeth shot through his armor, and pierced his flesh. He felt poison shoot through his veins. Massive blood loss occurred that would have killed a non undead instantly. He completely shoved his sword through its eye, and pierced its brain. It died instantly as he heard a mighty hiss of rage from behind him. The first ones jaw was still clamped on him so he shot a Soulspear at the other head. It easily moved its head out of the way before rushing him again. If he'd had his talisman it would have gotten a mouth full of the god's wrath, but now. Now he just raised his sword as if to block. The fangs hit the sword, as he barely blocked it. He was now in poor shape from the wounds and poison. If the fangs got a hold of him he'd likely be torn in half. The beast opened its mouth wider preparing to swallow him. He paled as memories flashed in his mind.

He sliced at the side of its mouth. Its cheek was left wide open, as it hissed in pain. he shot a Soulspear into its throat. The spear shot through, and left a gaping hole in its head. The head went limp, as did the undead. Albeit for different reasons. The beast disintegrated while the undead lay down and ate some moss. He withdrew a talisman from the box and cast a healing miracle. The wounds disappeared, but the armor was still pierced open. Repair powder fixed that though. Now it was time to continue onwards. Or at least he would have if he hadn't caught a glimpse at the moon that he hadn't noticed until now.

The undead may not be a Darkmoon Knight anymore, but seeing the moon in such a shape was still disturbing. For a moment his mind drifted to his misgivings with the Darkmoons, but returned to topic. What could have shattered it so terribly? Not even the four lords and the dragons together could have done that kind of damage. The moon was shattered beyond belief with bits floating around. He had a lot of questions for humanity.

 ** _Yay, new chapter! This chapter was a ton of fun to write, and the only reason it wasn't out sooner is that I was to lazy to start my editing. I'll try and hurry up with chapters but I started a new TTW's character (Tale of Two Wastelands, a mod for Fallout New Vegas that combines it with Fallout 3. Basically two games in one. ) so it might be a while before the next chapter. I also feel like its worth mentioning the undead won't be some op pleb. He's a badass but The undead is in for a rough time at best. The Grimm encountered so far have been fairly young. I hope you enjoyed the chapter though, and have a good day!_**

 ** _In response to Zapper I found that review oddly funny, no clue why._**


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